Duty
by hazelmom
Summary: McGee struggles with his emotions in the weeks after the gala drone attack. Tag to 11x13 Double Back. One shot.


A/N: This is a tag to 11x13, Double Back. There will be no sequel. I just wanted to explore McGee weeks after the explosion. I will get back to The Fear Game as soon as possible. I hope you like it. Sheila

Duty

McGee had always worked hard to control his reactions, but he could never quite control his body. When he was agitated, he had a jerky sort of walk- tension pulsing in every step. They'd seen it when he thought his grandmother was in danger and when his father visited, and now they saw it as he descended from Vance's office.

No one said anything. It had been a very hard month for McGee: The explosion at the gala, Delilah in serious condition, Parsa still on the loose, and finally, the news of Delilah's paralysis. McGee seemed to stiffen whenever anyone asked how he was doing.

Still, the tension in his body as he walked into the bullpen seemed profound. Tony saw Ellie look at McGee with concern, and Tony gave her a quick shake of his head. Gibbs' eyes followed McGee, but he too said nothing.

McGee stood at his desk, his breathing slightly shallow. Then he sat down abruptly and stared at the computer screen in front of him. He stayed there still as a statue for a few moments, and before blurting out the word, "Coffee", as he jerked upward again and headed for the elevator.

Gibbs nodded to Tony. "Follow."

He groaned. "Boss, it's like communicating with a wood chipper. I get too close to him and it'll be like that scene in Fargo all over again."

"You can take your gun."

"Oh, that's cute, Boss," Tony said as he got up. "You're a real comedian, ya' know that?"

"You want me to go?" Ellie asked.

Tony gave her a look before grabbing his coat. "I don't really relish scrapping probie parts off the sidewalk all afternoon. You just sit there and analyze something."

She frowned but said nothing as he headed for the elevator. She turned to Gibbs but he was focused on Vance coming down the stairs. Without looking at her, Gibbs said, "Go down and help Abby."

"But she's not working on-"

"Bishop! Disappear."

Gibbs' voice often inspired a Pavlovian response and she was on her feet heading out before she really had a chance to think about it.

"Leon," Gibbs said when the director got to his desk.

"Did he tell you?"

"Nope. But I could see that you worked him up pretty good."

Vance narrowed his eyes. "I blame you. How many times did you refuse to accept the Navy Meritorious Civilian Service Award?"

"Oh God, is that what it's all about? This is not the time, Leon. He's not in the right place for that."

Vance wheeled over McGee's chair and straddled it. "You think I don't know that? This isn't about timing or what I want. It isn't even about him."

Gibbs sighed. "The NSA."

Vance nodded. "Remember what it was like for us after Harper Dearing's attack. The dead. The wounded. People were shaken. They needed some meaning, some reason to move forward."

Gibbs snorted. "You gave out commendations like you were throwing candy at a parade."

Vance stiffened. "Every one of those commendations was deserved, Gibbs."

"Agreed. This time?"

"It wasn't in the initial reports you got. McGee was right outside when the drone hit, and it was 13 minutes before first responders arrived. McGee started pulling people out despite the fire and smoke. One of the first ones he got to was an Assistant NSA Director. He sat her down on the sidewalk and she watched as he went in six more times. Three times, he carried people over his shoulder. Firefighters had to hold him back when they arrived. The Assistant NSA Director filed a supplemental report to Secretaries of Defense, Navy, and State. Additionally, she released the report in house at the NSA. McGee has fans."

"He's a good man and he's well trained. I would expect him to react well in crisis."

"He saved lives, Gibbs. He's trained to do it, but they were NSA lives, and NSA needs heroes right now. They've lost good people and they are reeling right now. Plus, they're crippled and need us to do all their heavy lifting right now, and they want to show appreciation. He's going to get the Naval Meritorius Civilian Service Award whether he wants it or not."

Gibbs sighed. "When is the dog and pony show?"

"Tomorrow."

"Oh Please, Leon. I can't turn him into a grateful hero in 24 hours."

"I'm going to have a roomful of NSA personnel here at 10 a.m. tomorrow."

Come on! Be reasonable!"

Vance leaned forward. "You think I'm running this? I think he deserves this award, but I would wait six months, and give him time to adjust to the idea. The NSA would lose their fervor so no one would notice when he "pulled a Gibbs" and didn't show up for the honor."

"I'm not going to force him."

"That's terrific. Our guests can sit and face an empty podium. Everyone will leave feeling great."

Gibbs shook his head. "I don't have your political savvy."

"3000 employees. Do you think I have time to have personal relationships with all of you? This is about leadership. I'm in charge of a creating a culture of excellence in investigation and in conduct. People like me do that by finding messages that exemplify these ideals. This is one of those moments. This is bigger than his discomfort."

Gibbs nodded slowly. "I won't interfere with his process. That's part of my culture of excellence, but if he decides not to do it, I'll be there in a suit ready to pinch hit."

Vance's eyes widened. "You getting up on a podium?"

"Bring a camera."

Vance chuckled. "Hell, I'll make sure there's a film crew. We'll use the footage for your next Meritorious Award."

…

"You were going to get coffee, right?" Tony said putting the steaming cup on the railing next to him as he looked over the Potomac.

The wind whipped at McGee's fine hair. "I don't want to talk."

"You make me nervous these days. You hold so much inside. You get into work at 6 a.m. so you can spend some afternoon hours with Delilah, and then you go back to work. That's it."

"We have a terrorist to catch."

"Right. How is she?"

McGee's shoulders tightened. "How do you think?!"

"I wouldn't know. You give me nothing. I offer to go and visit her and you tell me she's not ready for visitors. It's been a month, Tim."

He shook his head, his eyes focused on a fishing boat floating by. "There is so much to adjust to. So very much."

"For you or her?" Tony couldn't hide the edge of frustration building within him.

McGee gripped the railing and looked away.

Tony watched him, sipping coffee slowly. "What happened up in Vance's office?"

McGee looked down. "I'm going to be a symbol of…interagency cooperation. The Gala Drone Attack hero. I get the award tomorrow."

"The Meritorius?"

He nodded. "No warning. Just show up tomorrow and act gracious. I'm incapable of that."

"You deserve the award. I was on the scene within the first hour, remember? Heard the firefighters talking about how much you did before they got there. I knew it wasn't going to end up in your version of events."

"I don't want it."

Tony sighed. "I know you've created some twisted belief in your own responsibility for Delilah's situation-"

"Don't!"

"Tim, I don't know what to do anymore. I'm your partner. I'm your friend. I watch you struggle and I can't do anything. You don't think that's hard for me? What about Gibbs? Ducky? Abby?"

Tim took a deep breath. "I come in. I do my work. Right now, that's all I can give. It's going to have to be enough for all of you."

"I'll be there tomorrow for you. You'll get through it."

McGee shook his head. "I'm not going. I can't do it."

"Are you sure, Tim?"

"Gibbs has been absent for 7 Meritorius Awards. How is this different?"

"Well, you're not Gibbs for one thing. No offense. And I suspect that they're pushing this award because it means something to NSA."

He shrugged. "There are other heroes. Plenty of people were there that night."

"Tim-"

"No!" McGee turned to face him. "I always do what's expected! I'm always willing to take one for the team! Not this time, Tony. Not this time."

"Okay," Tony said softly. "I'll give you some space."

McGee's mouth twitched as he watched his partner walk away. Then he yelled, "Tony!"

DiNozzo turned.

"You're a good friend, and I wish I knew how to say more to you."

Tony smiled. "You'll get there, McMute. You'll get there."

…

He stood in the doorway for a long moment and watched. Her bed was set at a slight incline and she was busy typing on a laptop that was suspended above her. Outside of the setting, she looked surprisingly normal. He shifted in the doorway and her head turned. "Tony!"

"Hi. Um, Tim said you weren't ready for visitors, but I, uh, I'm not that good at listening."

"Get in here!" Her smile was genuine. "Sit down! What is wrong with Tim? He told Abby the same thing. She's had to visit me clandestinely for weeks now."

Tony settled into a chair by her bed and squeezed her hand. "Don't be too hard on him, Delilah. I suspect he's trying to keep you and work as separate as possible- afraid he's going to fail one of us."

"I'm worried about him," she said.

Tony smiled. "He's a fighter, Delilah. It's tough now, but he's going to get through it just fine. Let's not talk about him right now. I came here to see how you're doing."

She gave him a tight smile. "I'm good. Everything I need. Friends and family everywhere."

"Okay."

"You don't believe me? People live productive lives everywhere in wheelchairs."

He nodded. "I know. I just figure it's a lot to adjust to."

"You're persistent. Everyone else lets me tell them about productive lives in wheelchairs and then they nod and start talking about the weather or something."

"I, uh, go to a men's group. I'm learning to really listen to people. You're convincing but you also sound rehearsed."

She sighed. "Nobody wants the real truth. The truth is a burden for my family and friends."

"And your boyfriend?"

She smiled. "He sits in that chair every day and talks about everything except what's happening to me. I know he just wants to make life normal for me again."

"But it's not." Tony gently squeezing her hand again.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "You can't imagine. I thought I would get a wheelchair and be home in a week. I didn't think about how I would have to re-learn everything. I need more upper body strength. I need to learn how to eat differently. How to dress myself. My apartment is impossible for a person in a wheelchair. A million things in my life have to change. There are health challenges I have to consider. It's endless. There's no time right now to feel sorry for myself. I have to learn everything now so I can get out of here."

Tony nodded. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Do you know what Tim was talking about yesterday? He thought we should take another trip to Miami. I couldn't believe it. What was he thinking? You should've seen him the first time we went. He got so sunburned the first day we had to spend the next two days in the room. He hated Cuban food. Kept ordering a burger and fries everywhere we went."

"He likes his routine."

"Don't get me wrong. He was romantic and sweet and tried everything I asked, but a trip now is something that would require a lot of planning. A beach is out of the question unless he plans to carry me everywhere. Everything has to be vetted for handicap accessibility. Even getting on a plane is complicated. Right now, I have to concentrate on getting an apartment with a bathroom I can use by myself. I don't have time to think about a vacation. I just wanted to reach over and slap him."

He smiled. "It works when Gibbs does it."

"I shouldn't complain. Tim is terrific. He is so solid and good and kind. I couldn't ask for more."

"He's a good guy."

She sighed. "I can't believe I said that much. I haven't unloaded like that with anyone. I'm sorry to burden you."

"You're not. It's good to know the truth. Try it on others. You might be surprised by their reactions. At the very least, it'll let you know who you can count on from now on and who you can't."

"Yeah. I never thought of that."

"Seriously, Tony!"

They both turned their heads to find Tim in the doorway.

"Hey Tim," Tony said.

"Did you think you were going to use Delilah to manipulate the situation?!"

Delilah frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"The damn award!"

Tony turned to Delilah. "They are trying to give McGee the Naval Meritorius-"

She waved her hand. "I know all about that. My supervisor stopped and told me about it earlier today. I told him you were going to kick up a fuss."

McGee shifted from one foot to the other. "It just doesn't feel right. I don't want…I mean, what do you think? If you think I should do it then maybe I will."

She gave Tony a meaningful look. "Tim, don't do it for me. I am fine if you don't go tomorrow. It's not a problem."

"But what would you like-"

She put up a hand. "Stop! I mean it. This is your decision and yours alone. I don't want to talk about it"

McGee looked confused. Tony got up and offered the chair. "I just stopped to say hi. Got to get home now. My girls are waiting."

She gave him a look.

"Fish girls. I have girl…fish."

Tim nodded. "Sorry I got angry, Tony."

"It's okay," Tony said patting him on the back. "Sit down and have a nice evening with your girlfriend."

"Tony," Delilah said reaching with her hand. He went over and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Don't be a stranger. It was a good talk you and I had."

"My probie will get jealous."

"No, I won't," Tim said. "I'm glad you came. It's a good thing."

"Alright," Tony nodded. "Delilah, you and I have a date this weekend. I'm going to bring a couple of movies and some popcorn."

She smiled. "I can't wait."

Tim waited until Tony was gone. "I'm sorry I haven't encouraged them to come and visit earlier. I guess I wanted you to myself."

She patted the bed. "Come sit with me."

He shed his shoes and settled in next to her, putting his arm around her. She snuggled into his chest. He smiled. "Have you thought about my vacation idea?"

She sighed. "Quite a bit actually. Tonight, I think I want to do some talking about what's real. I think right now a vacation is pretty unrealistic. I've been searching online for a handicap accessible apartment. I thought maybe we could narrow down the options and you could maybe visit a few of them- do a little "legwork" for me, so to speak."

"Okay," he said as she pulled the laptop down and keyed up her search.

….

"Timmy!"

He blinked as a smiling Abby got off the hospital elevator and enveloped him in a hug.

"You're here to see Delilah?"

"Of course. I know you said she isn't ready, but she really is." Abby held up a bag. "Sister Rosita is teaching us to knit. We just sit and knit and talk. It's really a lot of fun."

"I'm sure it is, but it's late, Abby. She's sleeping right now."

"Oh, I know. Visiting hours are technically over, but I promised her I could drop off this amazing Alpaca yarn I found. I'm just going to drop it off at the nurse's station. We're making scarves."

McGee waited while she deposited the bag with the nurses. "Hey Abbs, I'm sorry I didn't encourage you to go and see her earlier."

She patted his cheek. "I know you. I know what you're like when you get scared."

He sighed. "You heard about the award thing?"

"I'll be there tomorrow to see you accept."

"I don't think I'm going."

She looked at him long and hard. "You'll make the right decision. You've always been good about doing things to help others."

He blinked in confusion.

"Come on, Timmy." She linked arms with him. "Walk me to my car."

…

Despite the short notice, the room was as full as Tony had ever seen it. Most of them were NSA people, and Tony stood against the wall so there were enough seats for all of them. Gibbs entered the room and Tony smiled. The boss was dressed in a navy blue suit with a red striped tie. He knew Gibbs never bought expensive, but he must've splurged here because the suit fit him like a glove.

"Looking good, Boss," he said when Gibbs reached him.

"Save the come-ons for the girls," he murmured tightly.

"That tie starting to choke you?"

"Shut up, DiNozzo. Have you seen McGee?"

"Nowhere to be found, Boss. The stage is yours."

"Damn."

Vance stood up at the podium and began an introduction of the award's history.

Tony leaned over. "This is good for you, Boss. Penance for all those awards you never picked up."

"Shut up or I'll penance you right up side your head," he responded darkly.

"Witnesses, Boss. Too many witnesses."

Vance said McGee's name, cutting off Gibbs' retort. Gibbs smoothed his suit as Vance went over the details of McGee's actions the night of the gala.

Vance got to the end of his speech and said, "Unfortunately, Special Agent McGee is unable to be here today. His supervisor, Special Supervisory Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs is here to accept in his honor."

Applause started as Gibbs took a deep breath and headed for the podium. Something at the door caught Tony's eye, and he saw McGee slip in, wearing regular work clothes. For a moment, their eyes caught, and Tim gave him a curt nod. Then he squared his shoulders and headed up the aisle.

Gibbs took the award from Vance and was getting ready to speak when he saw McGee coming. He smiled and gestured. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it turns out Special Agent Tim McGee was able to make it here in time."

McGee seemed out of breath when he got to the podium and he fumbled the hand off a bit when Gibbs gave him the award. Gibbs started to move off the dais but McGee gave him a look. Gibbs nodded and stood nearby.

McGee looked down for a moment before taking the mic. "I, uh, want to say thank you to my boss, Special Agent Gibbs for accepting this for me."

The crowd was silent as he looked out on them. "I…was reluctant to be here today. I'm…not much for awards, and…I feel like I did what anyone else would've done if they were there when the drone hit."

He swallowed. "I…my friend- actually my girlfriend, Delilah Fielding, was hurt in the attack. That's been…hard. I've been angry and…distant. It's been unfair to people who've been trying to help."

He took a deep breath. "Last night, I was sure I wasn't going to come, and then a friend said that I would figure out how to do the thing that helps others. I think she was telling me that accepting this award helps other. Spent all night thinking about that. It's good…to recognize the moments that were right in the midst of something that was wrong. And this was really wrong. Somehow, I think it helps us find our strength again. I'm glad…to be a part of that."

He spotted Abby in the audience filming him with her IPhone. He smiled at her. "This award is for Delilah. It's for the people who made it out and the people who didn't. It's for the people now who are working so hard to get us focused again. Thank you."

He stepped back as the applause came. His eyes searched for the nearest exit and then Gibbs was there, whispering in his ear. "Stay by my side and we'll get through it together.

….

He looked up from his computer and noted that the lights in the room had dimmed. That always happened at 11 p.m. and then he looked down at the time on his computer screen and realized it was close to midnight. He saw Gibbs still at his desk in a USMC sweatshirt. "Boss, you changed your clothes."

"About four hours ago," he said.

"Yeah, I guess I've been trying to concentrate."

"You usually spend time with Delilah. You didn't do that today."

"Abby had a knitting party with her and Sister Rosita. I figured it was an opportunity for me to get caught up."

"You got to take care of yourself, Tim."

"Yup."

"You left your medal at the reception."

McGee blinked. "I didn't realize."

"Luckily, DiNozzo found it. He has a spot in a desk drawer for unclaimed awards."

"I'll thank him."

"Tim, I've been struggling with something."

"What's that, Boss?"

"Every time, I look at you in the last few weeks, I see myself."

McGee frowned. "I don't understand."

"You remind me of me back when I was still so angry and hurt. You remember. That was the Gibbs you knew ten years ago. The guy who drove you hard all day and then drank bourbon all night in his basement."

McGee looked down. "I don't have a basement and I'm not much for bourbon."

"No, you have Delilah."

McGee's face reddened. "Having Delilah is a good thing."

"No doubt. What will you do with this anger after we catch Parsa? Do you think it will go away?"

Tim fumbled for his backpack and slung it roughly onto his shoulder. "Boss, I don't understand what you're saying."

"I don't want you to be the silent powder keg that I was. I want you to be honest with yourself. Acknowledge your anger."

"You must be going to that men's group with Tony," McGee said as he struggled with his jacket.

"Stop!"

McGee froze.

"You're family to me, Tim, and I'm worried. So is everyone else."

"I don't know what to do about that. I come to work and I perform well. I spend time with Delilah. I'm doing everything I am supposed to do."

"Exactly!"

"Riddles aren't your style, Boss."

"Stop meeting everyone's expectation. Stop doing what's expected. Do you love Delilah or do you owe her? Which is it? Deal with it. Don't become what I was. Don't become the most lonely man in the world. It's a miserable way to live."

McGee's eyes stung.

"Am I pissing you off? If I am, I'm okay with that. It's time you were angry with someone other than yourself."

"I don't know any other way to be," McGee whispered.

"Talk!" Gibbs said fiercely. "Start talking and keep talking. Talk to me. Talk to Tony. Talk to Delilah, Abby, Ducky. Talk to Rachel Cranston. Talk to us and be real. We don't need this perfect version of you. We need the real one. Please Tim. Don't become me."

McGee stared at the floor.

"Promise me you'll think about what I said."

He nodded, still not looking at Gibbs.

Gibbs let out a deep sigh. "Go home and sleep in. It's an order."

McGee looked up. "Okay."

…

The End


End file.
